


Mirror Image

by draculard



Category: Secret History - Donna Tartt
Genre: Blood, F/M, Sexual exploration, Sibling Incest, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 15:31:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18694282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draculard/pseuds/draculard
Summary: Watching Camilla wring the blood out of her hair is like meeting a reflection of himself.





	Mirror Image

There is blood in Camilla’s hair. She kneels naked in the lake to wash it off; her skin is pale, the water clear and placid. Moonlight almost seems to make her glow

But Charles cannot approach her. She is wild now; he sees it in her eyes. They’ve gone completely black, and it’s best for him to stay away.

The next day, when the sun is up and their memories from the night before have become just a fog, Charles can still see her like that, with her white hair turning red, with watery streaks of it rolling down her shoulders and arms. It makes him hard just thinking of it. 

They used to bathe together, when they were children. Sometimes, they still do; Charles draws the bath and he slips in next to Camilla when the tub is full, the water warm, the porcelain cool. His legs slotted between hers perfectly, his cock brushing her thigh.

When they were children and Mother allowed them to bathe together, without supervision, Camilla would run her little hand between his legs, teasing him, touching him everywhere to see what he would do. And he would do the same for her, of course. He learned what felt the best to her — what made her gasp and blush, what made her rock her hips against his hand.

Watching her come was like seeing a secret part of himself in a mirror. Even now, watching her wring the blood out of her hair in this clear stream, it’s like meeting a reflection of himself, like he’s traveled all his life just to find this meadow, so he can lay his palm against the glass and see what he’s really supposed to look like, how he’s really supposed to be. 

But his reflection isn’t staring back at him. She’s standing in the water, looking away. 

She doesn’t even know he’s there. 


End file.
